It may indeed be another Grey November Saturday Sky (surprise, surprise),

with some white stuff coming out of said sky again, even.

It may even have started with an evil-omened waffle on the Gothlet’s plate.

(The Skullwaffle was not on purpose. Really. Not that she wouldn’t do that.)

But we got unexpected good news today!

Little Miss Beya had a goopy eye yesterday, so she had a vet appointment this morning. Fortunately for her health, by today the eye had mostly cleared up. But even better, since she had doubled her weight in less than two weeks, it was decided that she was big enough to do blood work on.

So she had her testing early: and all was absolutely normal! (If it hadn’t been, it still could’ve been inaccurate, but apparently all is well.) She was pronounced healthy-appearing in all other ways as well.

To her surprise, therefore, she came home with us!

However, she did not approve of the current feline resident of the household (he was interested but wary for the most part; however, she went ballistic when he approached). So she is confined to the bathroom, and we will introduce them slowly.

Everyone seems to be hanging out in the upstairs bathroom a lot more than usual right now.

Just at the moment, however, someone was a bit overtired and overstimulated, as we used to say about the kids when they were babies (“OT/OS”).

“This morning already, I’ve been put in an airborne box, taken out in the cold, been poked at with sharp things twice, had my nails trimmed, and you wouldn’t BELIEVE where they put that thermometer! Now what is THIS place? And who is that huge orange scary cat who is not my mother?

I need a nap! Maybe it’s all a dream….”

Well, for us it’s a dream come true, and I think Beya will think so too when she wakes up. (Plus, she was wearing out her welcome at the studio, after the last two days in which she unwound the reel of (expensive) analog recording tape that was on the machine, and ‘helped’ my husband rewire as he was on his back, under the mixing board, with his hands full.)

Citrus, on the other hand — though I think he will accept her reasonably well — will soon find that HIS naps like this are a thing of the past for a while.

At least when BeyaPlayPlayPlayPlayPlay is around.

He may not be thinking this is such a Happy Day. In fact, he may be looking to move out for a while until she grows up a bit and learns kitty manners….

The rest of us are ecstatic, though.

And guess what? The sun came out at the end of the day, too! (Click to embiggen for the full effect, it was rather awesome.)

Waiting for tests, to make sure she’s healthy enough to come home to be with our other cat. (Feline Immunodeficiency Virus and Feline Leukemia Virus are serious infections, passed from cat to cat and potentially acquired at or before birth.)

Waiting to get big enough to be tested. She was not even big enough to draw blood on yet when she first saw the vet, and some of the tests aren’t accurate before 8 weeks of age, due to antibodies that can be acquired from the mother.

She was found alone in a field, covered in mud and less appealing, more smelly stuff, with cuts of her back legs. She weighed less than a pound. Acquaintances of my husband’s found her and brought her into their house. My husband had just been making noises about getting a second cat (surprisingly, because for many years, he’s been Mr. “We-Don’t-Need-No-Steenkin’-Pets”. Not that we haven’t had/don’t have pets! However, the only one of them that actually came into our household totally-on-purpose was my old cat Thisby, whom I brought home from the Humane Society when I was in training, before we were married).

The initial plan was to wait a little, have her checked out as above, have everybody meet her, then decide if we could adopt her; but we realized we needed to relocate her from the acquaintances’ house when it was apparent that they were feeding her baby rice cereal mixed with Pedialyte….and Kitten Chow which she had trouble getting down (when we took her to the vet, she said she was only 5 weeks old).

So at the moment, this kitten-in-Waiting is staying at my husband’s recording studio: charming musicians, perching on shoulders, snarfing down soft food and crushed dry food, and growing like a weed.

She has a name: Beya. She seems to be very happy Waiting.

Because, after all, while you’re Waiting, you can always play!

Please send good thoughts this way for Beya’s good health. We’re all Waiting and hoping.